Flank to Flank and Facing Forward
by The Black Sun's Daughter
Summary: Gwen knows that there's something...different...going on. She knows there is because she's never seen Merlin so carefree, or Arthur so happy, or Morgana so joyful. She knows something is happening. She just never imagined it'd be this. (4th in A Torrent of Light series)


Things are…strange, Guinevere notices.

Not to say that things in Camelot are ever precisely _normal._ She imagines that most people go their entire lives without ever seeing a griffin or a unicorn or…well, largely anything that happens in Camelot.

No, this is an entirely different kind of strange, and honestly, it makes her somewhat nervous, though she couldn't say why.

Firstly, there's Merlin. He's always been pleasant to be near, but now he's… _effervescent._ It isn't uncommon now to hear him humming as he goes about his duties, or even singing quietly to himself. He's got a kind word and a smile for everyone he passes, and even some of the most dour-faced guards can't help but to smile back at times, taken in by the irresistible joy of Merlin. It's not just that he's happier, either. It's that he's _lighter,_ as if something heavy's been taken from him at last.

There's no doubt in her mind that part of the reason why Merlin is so happy is Arthur, or that in turn, Merlin is also why Arthur is happier, too. The prince has been outright _pleasant_. He still has that confidence, but he's quicker with a smile or a kind word, too. He doesn't have that air of…unapproachableness anymore. Just days before, Gwen had seen him strolling through the market, eating sweetmeats from a vendor, and listening attentively to the chattering of a young peasant girl, no older than six, who apparently had a deep fascination with knights and knighthood. He hadn't minded holding her holding one of her grubby little hands or giving her some of the sweets or even telling her that perhaps, yes, maybe one day a woman could be a knight, too.

But it's Morgana who's most changed. Like Merlin, it seems almost as if some dread weight has been taken from her, and no longer burdened by it, she's rediscovered joy, a banked fire blazing back to life. She no longer wakes up screaming herself hoarse, and Gwen hasn't walked in on her thrashing in the throes of some horrid nightmare for weeks, even though she no longer takes the mixtures Gaius prepares for her. She and Arthur have become as close as they had reportedly been in childhood. It isn't what Gwen would call friendship at first glance, full of playful malice and predatory fondness, but it _is_ a friendship.

She's contemplating the differences between them as she walks back up to her lady's chambers. "My lady, the seamstress is here to take your measurements for your new—" Gwen freezes in the doorway, still grasping the handle.

Merlin and Morgana are in her chambers—alone and with the door shut, a scandal on it's own—but that isn't what makes the blood drain from her face. It's that they have their hands cupped between them, giggling like children. And dancing through the air above their palms are small licks of flame that take the form of a minute hunting party, chasing a stag 'round and 'round. And their eyes, their eyes are glowing gold, like new-minted coins in the sunlight.

Magic.

She makes some sort of sound. She must, for the flames snuff out in a blink, and both dark-haired heads turn towards her. Morgana's face goes deathly white. Merlin looks terrified.

Gwen bolts. She doesn't know why she does, just that she has to do _something,_ and her legs obey, fleeing down the corridor mindlessly. There's a cry of dismay from behind her, and Merlin's voice calls something after her that she doesn't hear.

Heavy boots thunder up behind her. She doesn't even have time to look back before a strong arm snags around her waist. "No, no, no, no," Arthur mutters, lifting her clean up off her feet, carrying her out of the corridor and into an empty room. Morgana and Merlin run in behind him, quickly shutting the door.

Once Arthur sets her on her feet, she immediately backs away, staring at the three of them, and her voice finally comes back to her. "That was magic," she breathes, pointing between the ward and the manservant with one trembling finger. "You…you two were doing…magic."

"We can explain," Morgana insists, holding out her hands placatingly. "Don't be afraid, please."

Afraid? Is she frightened? Morgana is her friend, despite their difference in rank, she's always been kind, never harsh or cruel. She knows Morgana has a sharp mind and a sharper tongue, but neither have ever been turned on her. And Merlin…he's her friend, too, almost like a second brother to her. He'd once admitted to being a sorcerer in front of Uther just to save her. "I'm not afraid of you," Gwen replies, and she knows it's true. She's surprised more than anything, and now that the shock's wearing off, she's a little hurt, but for the most part…. "Are you out of your minds?" she asks, straightening up to stare at them. "You're practicing _magic _in the heart of the _citadel?_ What's the matter with you? You didn't even have the door locked. What were you thinking?" she berates, taking care to keep her voice low enough to not be overheard from the corridor.

"You didn't bolt the door?" Arthur sounds torn between being horrified and outraged.

Morgana glares back at him. "Is that _really_ what we're going to focus on right now?"

Ignoring the bickering, Merlin asks gently, "Guinevere?"

"I...I just..." Gwen huffs, shakes her head, and props her hands on her hips, looking between the three of them. "Explain. All of you. Right now."

They do. Merlin and Arthur do most of the talking, and Morgana only adds on a little bit at the end, and by the time they're through, Gwen is reduced to rubbing her temples with her fingertips, trying to massage away the headache she can already feel forming. Honestly. How did any of them even make it this long without getting caught? _How?_

She turns her gaze to Arthur. "You're alright with all of this?" she asks. "Truly?" Not that she means to doubt him, exactly, but it's hard to see how someone who grew up at the elbow of Uther could be so easy with magic. And if he is, then he's a better actor than any performer she's ever seen.

And for his part, he doesn't even look insulted at being questioned. "I am. Guinevere. Magic…it's not evil. It doesn't corrupt the souls of men." Arthur pauses, scrubbing his hands together, mouth twisting thoughtfully; she's always thought it cute when he did that. "Think of it like the herbs a physician uses," he says, eyes brightening. "Foxglove can strengthen a weak heart in small doses, but too much and the heart will stop entirely. Datura can numb pain, or put you in a sleep so deep you never rouse from it again. The plants themselves aren't good or evil, it's in how you use them that makes them so."

Gwen raises her eyebrows at the prince, and so does Morgana, smirking behind one hand. Merlin just smiles a little, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Arthur glances between them, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," Gwen chortles, then shakes her head, looking between the three of them. "So what happens now?"

"That depends on you," Morgana replies, taking a small step forward. Her face falls slightly, something shadowing her eyes as she looks down and smooths her skirt, a nervous gesture on her part. "If you wish to be released from my service—"

Gwen's eyes widen. "No, my lady, never!" she exclaims. "I just meant, what do _we_ do? The four of us?"

Merlin and Arthur exchange a sly little smile, and Morgana beams, that brilliant smile that's only recently come back to her. She steps forward and takes one of Gwen's hands in both of hers, squeezing her fingers. "Come on, we'll discuss it back in my chambers," she says. Gwen nods, sliding her arm through Morgana's.

"We've got a training session to get to, anyways. We'll talk at dinner, 'Gana," Arthur says with a nod, and he gives Merlin a helpful shove towards the door.

"I'm sorry I ran. I don't know why I did, to be honest. I think I just...panicked," Gwen apologises as they walk back up the corridor, not wanting Morgana to think that she'd been fleeing from her. She couldn't honestly say why she had run at all. Apparently, she is more inclined to the 'flight' option.

Morgana doesn't seem bothered, anyways, waving a hand. "Never mind it, it's perfectly understandable. You had the shock of a lifetime, you're allowed liberties. Trust me, I nearly panicked when Merlin and Arthur told me, too."

Once they're back in her chambers, with the door firmly shut, Gwen hesitantly gives voice to the question she hadn't wanted to ask earlier. "Is...do you think Arthur is going to repeal the ban of magic? When he's king?"

Morgana's smile is like the dawn breaking. "Oh, yes. Here, look." She takes a small key, unlocks a drawer, and takes out a slim sheaf of parchment and a heavy book. "This is a record of the old laws of magic in Camelot, before the Purge. Arthur's having me read them over, and Merlin and I are drafting new ones for him."

As she looks over the pages, hardly understanding any of it since it's all couched in terms she isn't familiar with, laughter begins to bubble up in her, starting from the pit of her stomach, spreading up her chest in a spill of warmth, and finally bursting from her mouth. She laughs and laughs until tears come to her eyes, having to lean over with a hand on the desk to keep balance as she giggles and gasps. Morgana gazes at her as if afraid she's gone slightly mad, and Gwen finally wrestles her mirth back under control, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. "Sorry, I'm sorry, my lady, I'm just..." She snorts through her nose, biting her lips together. "The King of Camelot despises magic, and the prince is secretly rewriting laws of magic whilst his manservant _practices_ magic alongside the king's ward whilst the ward's maidservant helps them hide it all."

Their laughter rings down the corridors.


End file.
